Quarterly Oncology Check-up #5

I want to start by saying, that I am in good health and feeling great. As I was waiting for the doctor to come in this afternoon, I realized that I haven’t posted anything since Thanksgiving of 2018. So, it seemed like a good opportunity to bring you up to speed on my oncology check-in schedule, what these appointments are like, and the psychological effects that they can have at first.

On Monday I met with my oncologist for our regularly scheduled quarterly check-in. These are typically pretty straight forward appointments. On a Friday I go in and fill around four viles with my precious blood. The nurse tells me that I shouldn’t clench my fist when they are drawing my blood because it will artificially inflate my potassium levels and I say “Oh really? Sorry about that,” every time. (For some reason I like the idea that the lab techs think I eat too many bananas. It makes me smile.) Then every other quarter I also get to have a chest X-ray and a CT scan. This is how they confirm that there aren’t any new growths. With my particular flavor of cancer, tumors will typically show up in the abdomen (where mine was), the lungs, or the brain (where Lance Armstrong’s was), so they check the lungs and the abdomen. So, they make me drink a vanilla milkshake that obviously doesn’t have any vanilla or milk in it. It makes me wonder why they don’t use a more prominent flavoring like shamrock shake or chocolate to cover up the poison flavor that is very present. Then after an hour of soaking time they bring me back for my x-ray and CT scan. The labs and radiology appointment typically takes somewhere between 90 and 120 minutes depending on how busy they are.

Then on the following Monday afternoon, I go to the oncology department to see my (you guessed it) oncologist. The first couple check-ins were kind of difficult. It caught me off guard. I had such strong memories as I walked past the chemo room. The combination of the smell and seeing the patients hooked up to the pumps with a friend or caretaker sitting next to them overwhelmed me. This has become much easier over the last year and doesn’t have quite the same emotional impact on me as it did at first. Then there is the uncertainty that comes with these check-ins. It has felt like I am living three months at a time. The next visit could bring me right back into that chemo room with an even more aggressive treatment plan. Again this has become easier as well but it is still very much present. Its a really odd way to live but these appointments have been effective at reminding me what is important and gets me to think about how I’ve spent my time and energy since the last one.

This brings me to today’s check-in. It was another good one. I did the CT scan and blood work on Friday and then had my meeting with my oncologist on Monday afternoon. First the nurse told me that she couldn’t believe that I was 38 when she saw my chart. She would have guessed that I was in my late 20’s. That was a nice way to start the appointment. Then the doc walked in and told me that everything came back normal again. We talked about the results, about the fundraiser they had last week, and a mutual friend. I also asked him if I should be worried about the coronavirus since I am not able to take forced oxygen due to one of the chemo drugs (bleomycin) that was part of my treatment. If I get forced oxygen above a certain level, it can permanently reduce my lung capacity. I hopped up on the exam table where he checked lymph-nodes, my lungs, and then does a physical exam (looking forward to being done with those some day). We kept talking and then he said ‘Alright, we will see you in six months’. I interrupted ‘You mean three months.’ He confirmed that it will be every six months for a while instead of quarterly. I tried to play it cool but he could tell how exciting that was for me. We then awkwardly said “see ya next time” and one of the other nurses came in and talked about scheduling. We talked about how happy she is that things are going well for me and that I can go up front to get something scheduled. I started walking out toward the reception area when one of the nurses from the chemo room came out and gave me a big hug. We chatted about how I’ve been, how Ashley is doing, and how happy she is that I’m doing so well and I was on my way.

One thing that struck me today is just how good the people are in that department. Not only do they acknowledge how young I look but they are sincerely happy to see someone who spent 12 weeks with them two years ago. They have such a difficult job. I could hear the chemo nurse that gave me a big hug talking on the phone while I was waiting for the doctor to come in. She was calling a former patient’s caretaker to give her condolences since she heard that they received a recommendation to start hospice care. Then 20 minutes later I walk out of the exam room and she jumped out of her chair, yelled my name, and gave me a big hug. I mean, they just amaze me.

So, thank you for reading. I’ll try to give another update after my next appointment IN SIX MONTHS!!